She obeyed instantly, ducking down and keeping her head in her lap. They hit a pothole and her butt fully lifted off the seat from the force. Deacon kept driving, flooring the gas, but the SUV beside them was faster.
Lana peeked over and her heart lodged in her throat when she saw the SUV overpower them. The wind shrieked through the window she’d left a crack open, as Deacon drove at a furious pace, and then the crunch of metal had her flying into the door. The SUV had hit them!
Deacon worked valiantly at trying to control the pickup, but the truck lurched and rocked from each vicious slam. Fear paralyzed her limbs, while her pulse drummed loudly in her ears. She wasn’t sure how long Deacon would be able to keep going, and just as the thought entered her mind, the scent of burnt rubber filled her nostrils. A blur of black flew past her peripheral vision and suddenly the SUV wound up in front of them, blocking both lanes as it came to a jarring stop.
Deacon slammed on the brakes, and she would’ve gone flying through the windshield if not for the seat belt. But her head did connect with the glove compartment, and Lana saw stars for several long seconds. She blinked wildly, drawing in gulps of air. A car door slammed, and despite the ringing in her ears, she heard footsteps approaching their vehicle.
A second later, her door ripped open, somebody unbuckled her seat belt and she was pulled from the car and thrown into the dusty shoulder of the highway. She instantly cradled her belly rather than breaking the fall, and her forehead bounced off the gravel and sent a streak of pain through her.
A pair of black boots entered her line of vision. When she raised her head, a wave of complete misery consumed her.
“Missed me?” Le Clair asked cheerfully.
Goddamn O’Neal. As he was being hauled out of the truck, Deacon had no illusions about how Le Clair and his men had found them. Shane O’Neal had evidently given them up. Hell, the bastard had probably even put a GPS transmitter in the damn truck.
So much for the tight-knit mercenary community.
The moment Deacon’s boots connected with solid ground, a fist connected with his stomach, making him double over. He glanced up to see Kilo winding his arm again, and then he gasped for air as his kidney took a vicious hit.
“That,” came Le Clair’s hard voice, “was for all the trouble you’ve caused me, Delta.”
Breathing through the pain, Deacon met Le Clair’s empty gray eyes. “How much?” he demanded.
“How much did it cost me to retrieve you?” Le Clair said with a knowing smile. “The original price on your head was fifty grand—I figured that would catch some attention when I spread it over the mercenary grapevine. But your friend O’Neal, I was surprised by how persuasive his negotiation skills were. We settled for seventy-five.”
Seventy-five thousand bucks. Good to know how much money his fellow soldier was willing to defect for.
“More?” Kilo asked his boss in an indifferent tone, curling his fist again.
“No, we’ll save the rest of Delta’s punishment for later.” Le Clair clapped his hands. “Tie them up and get them in the van.”
Relief rippled through him when he noticed Oscar approach with Lana. Although faint smears of blood covered her forehead, she looked unharmed. Their eyes locked, and the hurt and anger he’d seen on her face since last night had vanished, replaced with cold fear. He wished he could reassure her, but as Kilo clamped his wrists together and wrapped a thin black cord around them, Deacon knew there was nothing he could say.
They were in Le Clair’s control again, and this time, there would be no escape.
“What are you going to do with us?” Lana asked in a shaky voice directed at Le Clair.
He smiled broadly. “I’m still debating the best way to kill you both. Or should I say, the most entertaining way.” He nodded in approval as Oscar tightened the cord around Lana’s wrists. “You’ve really been a pain in the ass, princess. I’m overwhelmed with anticipation at the thought of finally being rid of you.”
“What about my father?” Desperation crept into her tone. “You said something about an exchange.”
“Funny you should ask. We’re on our way to meet your daddy right now.”
The look of shock on Lana’s face matched the one Deacon tried to hide. The deathly chill in his bones told him this was just another game, and Le Clair’s next words confirmed it.
“Rather admirable of your father to trade his life for yours, huh, princess?” Le Clair smirked. “Unfortunately, Daddy dearest isn’t very smart. If he were, he’d realize that the men he pissed off don’t care about his life. They’re eager for his death.”
Lana gasped. “You’re going to kill my father?” She swayed on her feet, looking close to fainting. “So this is all a trap? Make him think he’s going to give himself up for me, and then kill him? Kill all of us?”